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Author Topic: The Richness of Stories  (Read 9862 times)

darkflagrance

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #15 on: December 30, 2011, 02:15:38 am »

Its almost a game of sort to peice together a familys history in Legends. :P

Indeed it is! Recently, in adventure mode, I met my first drunk in all of .31.xx. She was also ardently religious - in the entire city, she was the only one who would always end statements with "Praise victory" or "fire" or whatever. Of course, we both got horribly mutilated by a group of bandits, but (being curious about her history) I checked up on her legends entry. She worshiped a whole slew of megabeasts, but get this: she came from a large (10+) family, and every single other member of it (parents included) had been slaughtered by one of the megabeasts that she worshiped.

Incidentally, one causes the other; having people you know killed by megabeasts causes you and the survivors to worship them.

And sadly, unless you the player take action yourself, I don't know if mechanics exist in the game to allow Duke Onul and Mayor Inod to settle their differences...except perhaps by fortuitous tantrum spiral...
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...as if nothing really matters...
   
The Legend of Tholtig Cryptbrain: 8000 dead elves and a cyclops

Tired of going decades without goblin sieges? Try The Fortress Defense Mod

Andreus

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #16 on: December 30, 2011, 03:38:58 am »

You know, if you get the reference, I actually see Mayor Inod as a shorter, dwarfier Gaius Baltar (second series), with Duke Onul being a maler, less-airlocky President Roslin.

EDIT: Also, oh crap, I just worked this out. Mayor Inod's wife died of either starvation or thirst in prison due to the negligent fortress guard. That adds a whole new nasty dimension to this feud.
« Last Edit: December 30, 2011, 03:44:55 am by Andreus »
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goukaryuujin

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #17 on: December 30, 2011, 05:13:35 am »

I'm so glad that I'm finally back in the DF mood. Its stories like this that have always made the game for me.  :D
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My wife, on the other hand, is sitting right next to me on her own computer playing DF, and her worldgens and embarks yield copious amounts of flux and iron. Armok likes her best.
Ok I stuffed up some how... I have Forgotten beasts and Mosswines as a Hostile Civ...

Lexx

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #18 on: December 30, 2011, 05:55:14 am »

Thanks for sharing. Indeed the stories your fort occupants spin can be engrossing. Its very enjoyable to watch these things play out. It just adds another layer to the game that makes it even better.
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Endiqua

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #19 on: December 30, 2011, 08:59:45 am »

I keep thinking I should do a story fort, where my focus is on observing and documenting.  I do follow the stories and I wind up with favorite characters, but I've never actually written anything.

Then I read something like this and think "Man, that sets a high bar."   :D

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I actually pictured them hauling themselves around on their hands and briefly stopping to high-five each other as they passed.

And this is why I don't eat or drink while reading these forums.  Too much danger of explosive dispersion.
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DF sets out a challenge to us with no explanation and no assistance, and each time we fail it becomes more merciless, but we continue in the hopes that we can show it, "See?  I'm doing good, right?  I kept the little men alive!  You're proud of me, right?"

Broseph Stalin

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #20 on: December 31, 2011, 06:58:30 am »

I always keep stories about my forts just for kicks.

Sphalerite

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #21 on: December 31, 2011, 02:59:34 pm »

Here is the story of Deduk Inksound, novice hammerdwarf, and Arulibesh the legendary war hammer.

Edem Princeblockade the Violet Pantomime of Glazing was one of the original fortress military.  She wielded an exceptional uranium war hammer (yes, I modded in uranium as part of an experimental metalworking mod) for years, defending the fortress from invaders and monsters.  She killed the first megabeast to visit the fortress, a cyclops, as well as many goblins.  Then one day there came an unfortunate incident in which the fortress military had to fight half a dozen forgotten beasts at once.  Edem slew the forgotten beast ena, and gave her hammer the name Arulibesh as her last act before being overcome by the instant full body necrosis dust coating the battlefield.  She was taken to the hospital, where she died during surgery.  Her last medical screen shows her as being blind, unable to breath, ability to stand or grasp lost, and with every body part (including, somehow, her teeth) as requiring surgery.

Enter Deduk Inksound.  Deduk was an immigrant peasant, with no useful skills and no friends.  When the lost members of the military needed to be replaced, he was one of those called on to serve.  He took up Edem's old suit of armor and the hammer Arulibesh, but somehow never seemed to have much aptitude for combat.  Despite attending every training session, his skill with the hammer remained at Dabbling.  He was frequently unhappy, upset by long military duty, upset by being drafted since he had no military skill, and upset by being relieved since he had no civilian skills.

Then Erong Gristlypaddled the Beard of Shell the swamp titan (A towering scaly raccoon,  beware its fire!)  arrived at the fortress gates.  I sent the military out to fight it.  The experienced soldiers blocked the few fire balls it threw easily, but took a long time to kill it.  When it finally fell, I checked the combat logs, and to my surprise saw that Deduk, who still had the title 'Wrestler', had scored the kill, smashing the creature's skull with his Arulibesh.

Lucky newbie, I thought.  Let the others soften it up and then be there at the right time to get the kill shot.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the fortress, the fortress's one marksdwarf had been trying and failing to kill Simo the forgotten beast (A great humanoid composed of pyrolusite,  beware its deadly spittle!).  Forgotten beasts made of stone are hard to kill, they don't have blood to lose or organs to pierce, so I decided to let the militia at it.  Again, it takes a while to actually die.  And when I check the combat results, I see again that Deduk the wrestler took credit for the kill.  This time his share of the combat report consisted of a single line:  "The Wrestler bashes The Forgotten Beast in the lower body with his Atulibesh and the severed part sails off in an arc!"

So there we had the rest of the military, trying unsuccessfully to kill the stone monster, and then this Dabbling hammerdwarf walks up and shatters the monster in half with a single blow from his hammer.

I'm realizing now that Edem Princeblockade, as she lay dying from the poisons from the dead monsters around her, did more than merely name her hammer.  She put herself into it, in some way, possessing it, willing herself into the hammer so that the fortress would always be defended from monsters.  Any dwarf who picks up the hammer and fights a monster will channel her skill and strength, the hammer guiding itself unerringly to smash skulls and shatter stone.  It's no wonder that Deduk hasn't managed to gain skill past Dabbling - he's got no idea what the hammer is doing, he just holds on as it fights by itself.

The cap to all this is that immediately after killing the forgotten beast, Deduk had a strange mood.  He had managed to gain enough skill in Masonry to go to the masonry shop instead of the craftsdwarf shop, and ended up building an artifact weapon rack.  I was puzzled for a moment, but then I realized that it made perfect sense.  A weapon like Atulibesh can't be stored on just any weapon rack.
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Reudh

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #22 on: January 01, 2012, 07:59:28 am »

The story of Zaneg Larmomuz the Blockaded Recluse of Justice, militia commander of Zalisiden from the moment she arrived until Zalisiden's doom five years later.

Zaneg entered life in the year of 486. She never spoke of her parents, and as she died childless her line dies with her. She led a very unremarkable life as a planter before migrating to Zalisiden, then a burgeoning dwarven outpost in a good region. Upon arrival, the militia commander Cog Dastotalis, an original seven and legendary miner was replaced by Zaneg. She already had Expert in her swordfighting, perhaps through natural talent or training, it is not known.
Zaneg immediately took command of the military of Zalisiden, residing next to the entrance in the barracks. She was a very quick learner and swiftly became a respected citizen.

When Cog's wife, Tobul Regalwhip (also a miner) had one of her two children stolen by a vile green goblin fiend, Zaneg chased after the goblin as if it were her own child. She fought like a dwarf possessed. She dished out her own kind of justice on that goblin, that day. She severed its hand, releasing the child, then proceeded to make a point out of this goblin- as Tobul fled, Zaneg cut the goblin's arm off, then its other arm, then a foot, then a toe, then its lower leg up to the knee, then another strike took its leg off, and another strike took the other leg off, and Zaneg stood triumphantly over the writhing torso of the goblin, lying in a pool of blood. Zaneg knelt down (and I imagine smeared herself with the blood of the dying goblin as she was no longer a virgin fighter) and with one last strike stabbed the goblin in the eye, striking its brain and killing it instantly.

Four kobolds attempted to steal from the fort during a visit from the motherland, and so Zaneg and her new squad members were sent to dispatch them all. Zaneg took all four kills and received her title: 'The Blockaded Recluse of Justice.'
She was a loner of a dwarf. Immensely physically strong and hardy, but not a friendly dwarf. Hence her title suited her.

In time, her squad became the elite fighting force of Zalisiden, with several strong dwarves by her side. Zaneg was a highly respected and feared dwarf. Fighting became her life.
A constant dream she had was of the famed Libadnoleth Rulgim, an adamantine battle axe owned by the militia commander of Murakgoden- Iteb Timnarmorul Adagarust Logem, the Soaked Bowl of Paint. (Seriously, I got her to engrave her own room and two of the engravings were of the battleaxe.)

For four years, Zaneg and Zalisiden went from strength to strength. Led by Zaneg, four squads of dwarves ran off a siege with only two losses.
Zaneg prized her iron sword. She was never seen without it. With it, she had repelled evil since she had arrived in Zalisiden.

Then, in 568, disaster struck. Zaneg rushed ahead to confront two blind cave ogres in the caverns, without waiting for her squad. She struck one down with a single strike, but her entire right leg was torn off by the other ogre.
Zaneg lay in the hospital for half a year while she was operated on again and again, before hopping up with a pair of crutches and resumed fighting.

She was no longer as fast as before, and so it was decided to let another dwarf take over the command of Zalisiden's military, until Zaneg was used to the crutches enough to be as fast as before.
Shortly after Zaneg's recovery, the goblin country The Rumoured Monster brought a very powerful force to assault Zalisiden, and the dwarven forces were absolutely routed. The goblins, their mounts and the troll backup managed to capture the first floor of Zalisiden, and so Zaneg was called in to fight once again, with the aid of six miners including Cog Dastotalis and Tobul Regalwhip as her second and third. Zaneg made her painstaking way to the weapon stockpile where she was confronted by three trolls- and it looked like it was going to be the death of her.

Cog and Tobul were busy fending off a voracious cave crawler and so couldn't help her- the other Miner-Soldiers were already dead from the gaping maws of the cave crawlers.
Zaneg stood there for what seemed like an eternity before leaping at one troll and thumping it in the head with her maple crutch. A simple wooden instrument she used to hold herself up, but in her hands it was a deadly weapon. With one strike, the crutch smashed through the troll's skull and it collapsed to the ground dead. It almost seemed like the two remaining trolls moved out of the way, fearing this musclebound dwarf. Once Zaneg had retrieved her weapon, she made short work of the two remaining trolls. The cave crawler had managed to bite Tobul in the lower body, enveloping her head and tearing her in two. Cog let out a moan of despair as the cave crawler ripped his wife to shreds and consumed her upper half. (poetic license.) Her children had seen the scene and promptly went wide eyed and horrified, before being struck with a melancholy that would not leave. Cog fought like a man possessed, gouging bits of the cave crawler left, right, and centre before he too met his end.

Now, Zaneg had no friends, no acquaintances and no pets. She did not know Cog very well, but she decided it was her job to avenge him and Tobul. Slowly, she made her way over to the cave crawler- and stood waiting for it to strike. She simply rolled out of the way and pounced with her crutch, bruising its brain, before stabbing its brain out through the top of its head.

With that, the Second Siege of Zalisiden in the Stormy War was broken. Zaneg was the last remaining military dwarf left of her entire army, a cripple with little energy left. The cleanup took a long time...

And yet, despite her injuries, Zaneg managed to defeat many more enemies, among them Nubpo Nightrumours- a dinosaur with paralytic blood. Zaneg ripped it to shreds and promptly fell asleep, waking up in the hospital two weeks later with paralysed feet, as did many of the children and pets.
This still didn't stop Zaneg.
Another one- Simo Spraygills the Moistness of Squids had mildly necrotic venom- Zaneg's stomach, remaining hand and top of her remaining foot were all infected with the rot. The foot had some necrotic tissue removed, the hand had the necrotic skin removed, and still Zaneg fought on.

Her second in command, another cripple- Thob Delightcrystals the Mournful Tragedy of Tours was another powerful dwarf, but when he died it was just enough to tip Zaneg into a short depression. So many had fallen. Her body was failing her, some fingers refused to work sometimes, and her foot had a constant ache that no amount of booze could seem to fix.

When the goblins came for the final time, Zaneg was ready. This time they would not lose.
With her iron short sword, Zaneg killed ten goblins, two cave crocodiles, three trolls and a macaque before fainting from exhaustion. Her four new recruits stood over her fallen body, but as they were swiftly killed Zaneg was struck down by Snodub Witchstalker with an iron whip.

With Zaneg's death, the last thing holding the wave of goblins back was gone and they streamed into the fort, and thus Zalisiden met its doom.

Andreus

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #23 on: January 01, 2012, 01:45:07 pm »

Oho. The Duke's one remaining good friend, Sodel, created an artifact floodgate and slew an ambush single-handed. Meanwhile, the water reactor has been vastly upgraded and improved, with new safety features installed and the manual startup system tested. The Duke's been mandating more medical supplies and materials for steel production.

Meanwhile, the mayor just demanded a rose gold table in his bedroom. How clearly now we see his true, decadent motivations.
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coolio678

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #24 on: January 01, 2012, 06:04:31 pm »

dang. This makes me feel lame. You know the best story I can remember? one of my miners drowned while digging my well.
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Loud Whispers

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #25 on: January 01, 2012, 06:37:40 pm »

dang. This makes me feel lame. You know the best story I can remember? one of my miners drowned while digging my well.

The Elk bounded across the plains, as the sun hung far in the sky. A grey monolith jutted from the ground, flanked by a great spiked gate adorned with hanging vines of steel and quartz. Within the darkness, grunts and curses reverberated through the hallways. Shorast was digging. He didn't like his job, but it was the only thing he was good at, besides drinking. Soon he'd be able to dig himself a fortune, and settle down eating three roasts a day, and only drinking the best of wines! That was another thing he was good at. He could appreciate the finer things in his damp, dark and melancholic life. His pick swung down at the mudstone as if in response to the sudden drop in the Dwarf's enthusiasm. He liked nothing more than to party, rest or talk just to compliment others! Heck, he was going to run for mayor the next season!
The pick struck the stone rigidly. Shorast gritted his teeth as the jarring shock spread through his arms. He had to concentrate, but he didn't care! He was just digging out a hole in the ground. Let the masons make it look pretty. Shorast should've been bathing in gems in some forsaken quarry. The next strike unearthed a mound of loose stones. Shorast placed his hand against the wall.
It was damp. But surely not? The engineers said the ground was clear! The wall began to give way, stone by stone until a torrent of water engulfed the poor Dwarf. Weighed down by his waterlogged clothes and pinned down by his heavy pick, Shorast looked above him for the hope that someone would find him and pull him out. He opened his mouth to shout, but by then the water had already covered his eyes.

King DZA

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #26 on: January 01, 2012, 09:30:56 pm »

This thread convinced me to go back and read The Siege of Gorerape again. I gotta say, it's pretty depressing. A lot of the dwarves mentioned in it have since met their end in battle, and have had their positions replaced by other aspiring soldiers. On the bright side, it's pretty cool seeing how far the ones that are still alive have come years later.
That first screenshot of them happily training in the barracks especially gets me, as I know that half of them are now several z-levels below the surface, resting for eternity in iron sarcophagi.

Man, I need to write more. It's neat looking back and seeing just how much Gorerape has progressed in its nine years of life.

orius

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #27 on: January 02, 2012, 05:25:34 am »

I don't have anything this epic in my DF experiences yet.

I did a bit of creative interpretation with the very first artifact that was successfully created by my dorfs.  It was a statue made out of larch wood and studded with gold, and it depicted the rise of the first king of my dwarves' civilization to power.  It also included an image of an elf getting murdered by a night creature.  I interpreted it as a racist work by the creator, picturing him muttering "Dwarf Power!" over and over as he labored over it.  Think about it: it celebrates the rise of the dwarf civilization while showing an elf getting killed, and to top it off, it's made out of wood.
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Reudh

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #28 on: January 02, 2012, 09:47:36 am »

Haha, well, two of my forts, I have gotten a particular engraving that appears over and over, that of the duel of Kogan Giltpassionate the dwarven hero, and Ola Pinedrove the elven druid.
Kogan is striking a triumphant pose/laughing. Ola is striking a plaintive pose/cringing. The artwork refers to the smashing of Ola Pinedrove's upper left tooth by Kogan Giltpassionate with an iron warhammer during the Duel of Kogan and Ola in 233.

Though seeing this inspired me to write a story of it.

Kogan stalked into the deserted forest retreat. This had been a long war. A hundred years too long. Too many good dwarves had died to defeat the elves.
This was going to be the last act of the war. If Kogan succeeded in this mission, then the elves would be forced to sue for peace. If he failed... then more dwarves would die.

Without warning, a whispery voice filled with the darkness of an ancient forest, the jubilance of a young shrub and the power of the gigantic elms spoke behind Kogan.

"So, dwarf, you have come. You think to defeat the forest, in its heart. You wish to rape and plunder the trees. Your kind are all the same. We plead with you to stop, but you never listen. And now a thousand of your fellows have died to our arrows and animals."

Kogan spun around, but a hushed whistling sound whipped around him and the voice spoke again.

"You cannot hope to win. My righteous fury will strike you down and I will encase you in a tree. You will be forced to watch over the forests for all eternity. For I am Ola Pinedrove, revered druid of the Boar of Stances. I have existed since time began, and you, young dwarf, are only a blink in the eye of the world."

Kogan sighed, and gripped the haft of his warhammer all the tighter.

"You do not know what I have been through because of your foul people, Ola. I have seen friends butchered and eaten by your disgusting brethren. You say you care for the land and yet you are happy to eat the corpses of your fallen foes. To violate a dwarven's sacred rite of burial is an unforgivable crime. I know you yourself have been guilty of this more than once. Even now, I do not doubt your face and teeth are smeared with dwarven blood, a sight which would turn even my stout dwarven stomach."

Kogan tensed and prepared himself. Ola was not visible. His advantage was the trees themselves- Kogan could not hope to catch him while he hid in the trees. He hoped the druid was not using a bow, as even though the arrows were merely wood, they could still tear through body parts like paper.

A light padding sound came, again, from behind Kogan. The elf had long blonde hair, a sneer on his face, and indeed crusted blood all over him. His hands were slightly elongated, with unkempt nails resembling claws. His teeth were longer than normal, especially his canine teeth, which just barely jutted past his lips. He was unarmed.
Ola was clothed in the druidic fashion, in leaves that covered only his elven genitalia and chest.
Kogan, on the other hand, was in heavy steel armour, encrusted with gems hewn from the earth.

Kogan spoke again.
"Ola, do you see my weapon? Do you see my armour? We stopped using the Earth's Blood just to spite you fools. See how the iron has black specks all over it? That's from the charcoal we used in our furnaces. A thousand degrees of burning heat enveloped all parts of your pretty trees. We used it to make our armour, our weapons, our entire forts are constructed from wooden corpses."

He hoped that this newfangled thing- psychological warfare- that he had learnt during his time among the humans of Iquimong would have as efficacious an effect on the elf as it did on goblins and kobolds, and it indeed appeared to.

Ola bared his teeth and hissed, a gutteral, almost evil sound from the ancient elf.

"You will not rape our forests any longer! I will destroy you and encase your soul in the puniest tree in the forest, pissed on by a thousand elves! We will laugh at your pathetic dwarven kind as we destroy you all! Watch as we eat your children! They are meat, no more than the animals!"

Kogan growled, a low, menacing burr. It helped him to focus and prepare for the fight, which was most definitely to be a difficult one.

"Where have all the elves gone? Have we scared them off with our big, nasty weapons? We can cut down your trees and there is nothing you do about it! We will grow them and cut them and continue like this until the end of time! We will preserve your trees as things to be sat on, to be burnt, to be laid on, to hold our corpses and to be used as battering rams!"

Ola simply leapt forward, on all fours, running like a cheetah. He was fast, faster than nearly any elf Kogan had seen. He barrelled into Kogan, knocking him flat over and landed on top of him. Ola clawed at Kogan's helmet, trying to tear it off so he could rip into Kogan's face from there.

Some instinct took over that day. Kogan tensed every muscle in his body, then bucked like he had seen cows do when confronted with a dwarven pest, throwing the elf off him.
Ola nimbly shifted in the air, and landed a good four metres away from Kogan.
Kogan lowered his stance, and waited for Ola to attack again. He was the rock, and Ola the tree. In time, a tree can wear down a rock, but a rock can quickly snap a tree.

Ola bounded toward him again, then leapt high above him, easily three metres in the air. He almost seemed to hang there for a few seconds, when suddenly he did something Kogan never would've thought- he let fly with a stream of urine.

Kogan uttered a cry of disgust and rolled out of the way of the stream, which stunk like a predator's stench.

"I had always thought that the elves were a little too close to animals. Stop behaving like one, you filthy creature. You do not attack others with your urine."

Ola laughed, landed and launched toward Kogan again.
Kogan gripped his hammer, then swung it like his mother had taught him, smacking the elf full in the jaw. A shining ivory tooth coated with black grime and dark red blood flew out of Ola's mouth. Ola was flung backwards by the force of the strike, hitting a sapling and snapping it in two. He let out a keening, mournful sound then, whether from the pain of the strike, or the fact that he, an elf, had killed a Sibling of the Forest.
Kogan walked up to Ola and stood over him, hammer in hand, tensed, ready to strike should the filthy elf launch another attack.
Ola merely cowered away from Kogan and began to blubber.
"Spare me, spare me, please spare me... I will call off the war if you do so..." Snot and tears now joined the blood and grime coating Ola's face, which Kogan found a pleasing sight. A single strike had determined the tide of the war! Part of Kogan wanted to swipe the elf's head from his shoulders, though he knew that to do so would turn Ola into a martyr and would only increase the elven hatred of the dwarves.

Kogan spoke in an angry but subdued tone, in a very quiet voice.
"You filth. Under your command, you murdered thousands. Some of them were my friends. Some were family, however distant. You threatened our entire country just because of your deluded tree-love. I should kill you where you stand and incinerate your body in the Earth's Blood just to spite your kind. I would keep your head as a trophy, letting it rot on my mantelpiece, and when it was too disgusting, I would throw it to the vermin, and I don't think they would even touch it."

Ola blubbered again, an incomprehensible mutter of several languages, twisted Dwarven, some Human, slashes of Elven and even some Goblin was in there. Whatever he said, it was meaningless.

Kogan sheathed his hammer, satisfied that Ola was no longer a threat, and walked away, out of the forest, kicking at trees as he walked. He had succeeded his mission. Tice Vafice would call off the war.

And Kogan walked away, and fame came to him.

((Kogan features in engravings and figurines of two of my forts- Murakgoden and Limulunnos. I did use poetic license- The war did not end after Ola's defeat, but merely wound down.))
Kogan's legends entry:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Ola's legend's entry- I didn't know she was a female elf until I checked, and she was an acolyte rather than a druid. (edit, she was a druid at the time of her duel with Kogan.) Again, poetic license.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

OH! Sifting through the entries, the Boar of Stances did indeed sue for peace after Ola's defeat, but resumed conflict 22 years later!
« Last Edit: January 05, 2012, 12:40:44 am by Reudh »
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Loud Whispers

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Re: The Richness of Stories
« Reply #29 on: January 02, 2012, 11:24:11 am »

Everything in DF can be made into a story :P

EVERYTHING.

Also Reudh,
Excuse me, but my Freudinometer just exploded.
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